


Buoyancy

by im_engineering_shes_biochem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_engineering_shes_biochem/pseuds/im_engineering_shes_biochem
Summary: just a lil thing i had saved to my notes that needs to go somewhere :) i read the cursed child once like four years ago and blocked it from my memory sorry :) scorpius is nervous and very conscious of his family upbringing and rose is a cute lil blend of her parents' personalities :)
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Rose Weasley
Kudos: 38





	Buoyancy

“Scorpius,” she groaned as she chased him through the stacks towards the restricted section. “Don’t get like this, just tell me what’s wrong.”

The pale boy whirled around so suddenly she thudded into his chest, and the next thing she knew his lips were on hers. It took her a moment to process what was happening, and she had hardly gotten her eyes closed when he pulled back inquisitively. He heard her swallow loudly, though he suspected the volume was less due to her nerves and more due to his proximity to her throat. Her eyes were dazed and cheeks flushed, mouth open as she gasped out an, “Oh.”

He searched her expression for anything, reciprocation or confusion, or even disgust, but for the first time in a long time he couldn’t identify her feelings. His heart was beating quickly, sending him into flight mode, and he tightened his arms around the stack of books he’d been returning. “Just... don’t tell Albus,” he murmured before brushing past her quickly and towards the exit of the library, throwing the books onto a table messily before he left.

What. An. Idiot. He couldn’t believe he’d just done it, with no real inkling that she might actually like him back. So stupid and reckless of him. He couldn’t help but put himself in her shoes as he hurried down to the Slytherin common room. She probably despised him. What a creepy thing to do, and after years of close friendship. He trusted her with everything, and she trusted him, too, and he’d just blown that trust to pieces. As much as he hated his family name, it seemed that he was turning out to be just as backstabbing and manipulative as his grandfather. He really had no right to kiss her, but in the moment he’d felt so justified. Maybe the others were right about him. Maybe he was just a revolting Malfoy.

He muttered the password and practically ran down the passageway to the common room, taking a sharp turn into his dormitory. Of course with his luck, Albus was seated on his bunk reading when he entered. He threw his bag to the foot of the bed and gathered up his bathing supplies quickly.

“Hey Scorpius,” his roommate greeted, not looking up from his book. But when he tripped over his footboard in his haste to grab a towel, Albus looked up and noticed his pale countenance. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, setting the book down and sitting up slightly.

“Fine,” he said firmly, cursing himself for sounding so agitated. He couldn’t keep things from Albus for long, and they both knew that. He just needed some time for himself, to plan out what to say and how to make things right, and he pleaded with the universe to let Albus overlook his angst just once. “I’ve just had a row with Rose,” he allowed himself to say, hoping that would stop Albus from asking more questions. “And I need some time to sort it out on my own, so I’m headed to the prefects’ bath.”

Albus gazed at him quizzically before picking up his book again. “Sounds like a good idea. But let me know if you need any help, you know I’m great at translating for Rosie.” Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the door.

“Um, please don’t talk to her until I do,” he added as a last thought, hand on the doorknob. “I just don’t want to hurt her feelings any more than I already have.”

“You have my word,” Albus answered laxly, already engulfed in his book again.

Scorpius trusted that his friend wouldn’t ask Rose about it, and even though he’d irrevocably damaged their friendship, he trusted that Rose wouldn’t mention it to Albus. She just wasn’t the kind of person to gossip like that, even when it came to the lowest of the low. He cursed himself for the butterflies that welled up in his stomach when he thought of her overwhelming compassion for people. He knew all about her clever mouth, too, and knew he should’ve been on the receiving end of one of her devastating comebacks after the stunt he’d pulled. Again, his heart fluttered as he reflected on her intelligence, and he couldn’t help the audible groan of frustration that escaped him. How could he be so simultaneously attracted to her and disgusted by himself?

He entered the prefects’ bathroom a moment later, and was relieved to find that Moaning Myrtle was haunting some other toilet tonight. He set down his caddy and turned on the faucets, which quickly filled the small pool with steaming water and soap bubbles. After stripping his robes and folding them neatly on the bench by the door, he let himself slip into the warm, almost scalding water. If he could just clean his body, he’d be able to clean his mind and focus on making things right, he assured himself. But even as his skin turned light red from the temperature and the scrubbing, he found his thoughts wandering to the coppery locks of hair his fingers had been wound into only minutes ago. “Stop that, Scorpius,” he muttered to himself, then immersed his whole head into the bath to try to clear his mind. Maybe it would be easier if he’d gotten any semblance of a response from her, because something stubborn in his brain insisted that there was a chance she liked him back. He shook his head shamefully, feeling his hair, suspended in the soapy water brush against his shoulders and face. He opened his eyes underwater to watch his limbs drift, spread wide in the bath, trying to calm himself down. His pounding heart, amplified in his submerged ears, started to slow as he observed his own weightlessness. Just a human, he remembered. Undefined by his family or his past or even his present. Just Scorpius, the boy who cares deeply about his friends and his school. Just Scorpius.

When the stinging soap water started to hurt his eyes, he emerged above the surface, feeling waves lapping at his face as the tension left his body. Now that he’d settled, it was time to think about how he’d apologize to Rose, because keeping her friendship now was the most important thing, and he couldn’t let his hot head ruin that. As he went to move his silvery hair from his eyes he noticed the continued turbulence of the water, and thoughtlessly peered behind him to find the source of the splashing.

Anxiety clutched him as he saw another student climbing out of the pool, clothes fully soaked and dripping loudly as she stood. He tried to wipe the water from his eyes quickly, but the steam still obstructed his vision as the student began wringing out her robes. Then he noticed the whispered muttering, and he’d know that tone anywhere.

“Rose?” he asked, voice tight with nervousness, hoping he’d misheard and it wasn’t actually her squeezing out long red hair into the pool. But there was no way he’d misidentified her, he was too attuned to her little quirks.

“What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, finally deciding to shrug off her outermost robe and drape it over a bench. He knew it was unbelievably vapid, but his heart soared at her voice. He’d been so terrified that she’d never want to speak with him again.

“Me?” he countered, beginning to rise up from the pool but suddenly remembering his nakedness and sinking down again. “Well— why did you jump into the bath?!”

“Because I thought you were drowning you absolute idiot!” she continued, wiping water from her face, and after a second, he recognized the hoarseness in her voice. Had she started crying? He reached for his wand on the nearby tile and quickly cast the drying spell on her clothes, hoping to help her misery in some way. But at the same time, he was so confused by her, and his emotions still so heightened, that he couldn’t help but swing back.

“I know how to swim, Weasley!” he found himself shouting back. “Accio towel,” he added, then stealthily rose from the water while covering himself from her view. “Why were you even in here?” Did he not lock the door? He must’ve forgotten in his muddled rush to get here.

“I had to use the loo,” she explained defensively, but though he could tell she was trying, she couldn’t stop crying, so it sounded more like a choked sob. Completely forgetting what had happened a half hour ago, Scorpius hurried into a stall to throw on his jeans before drying off the towel and offering it to her as a sort of olive branch. He took a seat carefully next to her on the slick tile, maintaining a few inches’ distance but leaning towards her a bit. She continued weeping, hiccuping softly as she wrapped her hair up in the towel. His hair dripped pathetically onto his jeans, so he tied it up in a ponytail as she steadied.

“So you had to use the loo in the prefects’ bathroom specifically?” he prodded gently once she’d composed herself, and she snorted in laughter before covering her face with her hands.

“Albus told me you were upset,” she admitted with an involuntary sniffle, squeezing at the towel in her hair to give her hands something to do. “And I figured I knew why, so I came here to talk to you about it, and then I thought you were drowning.” She gestured weakly to the bath. “And I know you can swim, by the way,” she added sharply. “I mean, Merlin, I was the one who taught you how at the Burrow. And you weren’t very buoyant.”

He couldn’t help it, she was such a picture perched on dripping wet tile, eyes puffy from crying and struggling to string a thoughtful sentence together when she was normally so eloquent. He let out a laugh, and was immediately relieved when she giggled at the situation, too. They sat silently for a few moments, Scorpius collecting several water droplets together on the tile with his fingertip as he willed up the courage to say something. He knew his shirtlessness shouldn’t be a distracting factor, because they’d played Quidditch together during so many humid summers that she probably knew every pale inch of his chest, but somehow that knowledge wasn’t helping him focus.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said softly, trying but failing to make himself look into her eyes when he said it. “For making you think I was drowning, and for what happened in the library,” he added, shifting a little to sit cross legged, physically closing himself off to her just the slightest.

“Why the library?” she asked, ginger brow furrowed, and the question caught him so off guard that he turned to look at her to check that she wasn’t joking. Just the slightest hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes, and he scrambled to think up something smart to say.

“I um,” he started, getting flustered. He just knew the blush washing over him couldn’t easily be excused as heat from the water. “It wasn’t right, I should’ve asked,” he finished quickly, and she hummed in consideration as she shook the towel out of her hair. He couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped open when the curly wet strands reframed her face. Or how her smiling dimples made his stomach do somersaults.

“If that’s the case,” she started, voice barely above a whisper, and it sent shivers down his spine. The suspense tightened his chest, and he resisted the urge to lunge at her again. “Scorpius, may I kiss you?” she finished breathlessly, and he had to take a second to clarify that he’d heard her correctly, that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, before nodding vigorously, causing her one last giggle before she covered his mouth with hers.

Existing on the receiving end of a kiss with Rose Weasley gave Scorpius more time to react and enjoy the moment. Her warm breath, spearminty and wet on his lips, sent a bolt of tingly heat from his heart down his limbs and into his fingers, so he couldn’t help but steady himself by resting his palms gently atop her knees. The moment she disconnected them, that heat was replaced with a sudden cold fear that he’d done something wrong again, that he’d overstepped, that she was just teasing him and he was making her uncomfortable in response.

“Are you—“ he fumbled over his tongue. “Was that okay? I’m sorry.”

She placed her hand on his chest, directly below his heart, and laughed gently at him. His stomach twisted in knots, until she reached for his hand and placed it over her own heartbeat with care. “Scor, do you feel what you do to me?” she whispered to him. “You’re an insufferable prat, so I never thought about my feelings that much, but after you kissed me, it’s like my mind was transfigured and everything made sense. We’ve been a bit daft about the whole thing, haven’t we?”

Relief flooded his system, and he felt air reentering his lungs as his chest untightened for the first time in about a half hour. As she grinned teasingly at his catching his breath, he managed to sputter weakly, “You’re the daft one, Weasley. I always knew.”

“Wow, handsome and humble, too,” she retorted, rolling her eyes as he fetched the towel to dry off his shoulders and hair as well.

“And extremely buoyant,” he added, swearing that her laughter would forever be his favorite sound.


End file.
